When Evil Spuppets Attack
by MarieMaia
Summary: While Angel is dealing with his puppet condition, Spike has a surprise that is just the beginning to some pretty crazy events.
1. Spike's Secret

Author's Note: Hey all, thanks for reading this. It's just a short little thing I've been writing in my spare time, and I'll update as often as possible. Feedback is much appreciated!  
  
  
  
Spike hid under Angel's desk, which, in foresight, probably wasn't a good idea. He had been avoiding Angel--and everyone else, for that matter--all day long, and wound up in the vampire-turned-puppet's office.  
  
Spike heard the door open and close and he cowered in the corner, the soft little footsteps coming closer and closer...  
  
"My nose may be detachable, Spike, but it still works. What are you doing under my desk?"  
  
"Look, mate, you're better off leaving. You don't want to know--"  
  
"You're right," Angel interrupted, raising one of his tiny felt eyebrows a little. "I don't want to know. But whatever you're doing behind my desk? Do it elsewhere."  
  
"I'm not doing anything!" Spike yelled defensively, but then changed his mind. "On second thought, yeah, I'm doing something. Now go away."  
  
Angel rolled his eyes (or tried to, anyway, but his current beady little eyes weren't capable of that) and walked behind his desk, finding himself face-to-face with...  
  
"Spike," Angel said, not being able to bring himself to say anything else.  
  
"Angel..." Spike whined, frowning deeply.  
  
"You-you..."  
  
"Now Angel," Spike said quickly, "you always pride yourself with being the mature one--"  
  
Spike was interrupted by Angel collapsing on the floor, giggling helplessly.  
  
"Oh god," Angel wheezed, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. "Who's the wee one now, Spikey?"  
  
Spike crossed his arms and glared at Angel. He truly was, in fact, wee. His puppet-self resembled him remarkably. His slicked-back blond hair, his cheekbones, his leather duster... He was quite the puppet.  
  
"Look," Spike said as Angel calmed down. "I don't exactly know how this happened, but I do know that it's your fault, and I want back."  
  
"How is it my fault?" Angel asked, standing up.  
  
"You bit me!"  
  
Angel stared at him. "And that made you a puppet?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "Now will you just turn me back?"  
  
"In two days, yeah," Angel said, smirking.  
  
"I was actually thinking now," Spike said, and then saw that Angel was serious. "Why not now?" he whimpered.  
  
"Fred and Wes said the spell would take at least two days to reverse itself," Angel explained.  
  
Spike pouted (although not intentionally). "Easy for them to say. It's not like they're under the evil puppet influence."  
  
--Cut to Wes's office--  
  
Wesley lowered Fred onto his desk, kissing her deeply as verse nine of the Self-Esteem Song started up.  
  
--Back in Angel's office--  
  
"Well," Spike said with a sigh, "now that my dignity has completely abandoned me--"  
  
"What dignity?" Angel commented, but Spike ignored him and continued,  
  
"--I guess there's only one thing left for me to do." Spike crawled back under the desk and curled up in the corner. "Wake me when I'm fleshy again, will you, Peaches?"  
  
"You can't stay under there forever," Angel said with a frown.  
  
"Not forever, just two days," Spike reminded him.  
  
"Spike," Angel persisted, "it's really not that bad."  
  
"Not that bad?" Spike said, peeking out from under the desk. "Angel, look at me!" Spike waved his little arms, gesturing to himself. "First I'm a ghost, now I'm a puppet! A bloody doll! And I don't even think I'm anatomically correct."  
  
Angel raised an eyebrow. "You know, it didn't even occur to me to check..."  
  
"My point is," Spike almost-shouted, still occasionally waving his arms, "I'm always being played, or messed around with, and it's embarassing, and degrading, but this has just got to be the worst of it, having my entire being changed, and-and... I really want a hug."  
  
Angel's eyebrow went up.  
  
"That would be my puppet talking," Spike confirmed.  
  
"Ah. So you don't actually want a...?"  
  
"No. I may be felt, but I'm still a man, damnit."  
  
"That's good to know. Now will you leave?"  
  
Spiek glared at Angel, but got up anyway. "Fine. I wanna go find Fred, anyway. I plan on seducing her into finding a way to turn me back sooner." Spike headed towards the door.  
  
"Seducing her?" Angel asked, both eyebrows going up this time.  
  
"Well, yeah," Spike replied, turning around to face Angel. "I mean, look at me," he said, gesturing down at his tiny puppet body. "How could any woman resist the charms of a puppet in distress?"  
  
Angel just shook his head. "Good luck with that, then."  
  
Spike opened the door, but turned around once more. "Angel?"  
  
"Yes, Spike?"  
  
"Could I maybe, um, use your private elevator?"  
  
Angel smiled a little. "Yes, Spike, go ahead." Spike left, and as soon as he did Angel fell back to the ground, laughing some more.  
  
--later--  
  
Spike sneakily made his way down the hallway, moving from plant to plant so no one could see him. He had looked everywhere for Fred and couldn't find her, so he finally gave up and decided to ask Wesley, because Wesley knew everything.  
  
Or at least Spike hoped he did.  
  
Finding the door that read "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," Spike grasped the doorknob with all his might, trying to turn it without his little hands slipping. He finally got it open and walked inside.  
  
"Wesley?" he said hesitantly. He swore, if that Head Boy even smiled at his current state of puppetness, he would--  
  
Oh dear.  
  
'Oh dear lord,' Spike thought, to quote a certain British Watcher, but not the one who, at the time, was on his desk with Fred.  
  
Spike's hands automatically covered his eyes, knowing this wasn't the sort of thing wee little puppets were meant to see. Turning back around to face the door, Spike fled the room.  
  
Wesley and Fred never noticed.  
  
--just a little bit later--  
  
Spike burst open the door to Angel's office, running inside.  
  
"Oh, Angel, it was horrible!" he cried, crawling up onto the couch to sit down. "I couldn't find Fred anywhere so I thought I'd ask Wesley, only I didn't know--how could I have known?--so I just walked in there, and he was... they were... and the music! I--I... really want a hug again, actually."  
  
Angel just stared at Spike. And so did--ye gods--Harmony, who was standing next to Angel's desk, her eyes wide.  
  
"Spike?" she asked in disbelief. "Blondie Bear?!"  
  
Spike groaned and buried his face in his hands while Angel fought smiling.  
  
"Is that you?" Harmony asked, walking over to where Spike was sitting. "Oh my god, Spike! You're so tiny!"  
  
Before Spike knew what was happening, Harmony picked him up and hugged him tightly.  
  
"You're so soft!" she cooed, hugging him even tighter. "Ooh, I wonder if there's a place for me to put my hand..."  
  
Spike kicked Harmony away with all his might before she had a chance to get his duster off of him.  
  
"Listen here, woman," Spike said in a low, threatening tone, pointing a finger at Harmony. "I really don't want to know if I have a hole in my back, and even if I do, there is no way in hell you're putting your hand in it. Got it?"  
  
Harmony frowned for a moment, regarding him, but then smiled again, giggling. "Look at how adorable you are when you're all upset and scoldy!" She went to go hug him again and Spike desperately yelled, "Angel, make her stop!"  
  
Angel, knowing how poor Spike felt, said, "Harm? Would you mind leaving now?"  
  
Harmony sighed, pouting. "Fine, boss. But I am so coming back with a camera later." With that, she left.  
  
Spike sighed, laying down on the couch. "Can't you just tell everyone at this stupid law firm to sod off?"  
  
Angel sighed as well. "Spike, I can't just... Well, actually, I probably could." Angel seemed to be considering that when another question popped into his head. "Did you ever find Fred?"  
  
Spike covered his face with his hands again, as if trying to block out all the bad mental pictures. "She's busy," he mumbled. "Hey, do you have any vodka?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Why do you want vodka? And can puppets even drink anything?"  
  
"There's only one way to find out, now, isn't there?" Spike said, smirking.  
  
--laaater--  
  
Wesley and Fred walked down the hall, and then stopped in front of Angel's door. Wesley reached out to open it, but Fred stopped him.  
  
"Um, Wes? I think your shirt is on inside-out."  
  
Wesley looked down at himself, and sounding slightly amused, said, "Would you look at that. It is." Fred giggled, and Wesley, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was nearby, pulled his shirt off up over his head. Just as he was about to put it back on the right way, he saw (and heard) a flash. Looking up, he saw Harmony standing across the hall, holding a camera. Putting his shirt back on, Wesley managed to look quite horrified.  
  
"Oops?" Harmony offered.  
  
"Harmony, give me the camera and go back to the front desk, right now," Wesley said in his trademark badass voice. Harmony did as he said and Wesley sighed as she left.  
  
"Shall we go check on the puppet?" he asked, turning to Fred. Fred smiled at him, although she was secretly plotting vengence against Harmony.  
  
"All right. But just so you know, mister, I get to keep that picture."  
  
Wesley's smile widened as he opened the door. "Fine by me. As long as I--"  
  
Wesley froze, staring ahead of him.  
  
"What the hell?" he swore, but it was pretty much drowned out by the guitar. And also the singing.  
  
"You can dream and beee anybody, but self-esteem is how you'll get it done!" Angel and Spike sang. Both puppets were sitting on the couch, Spike with a mini-guitar in his lap, and Angel with a bottle of... some alcoholic beverage in his lap. Angel noticed Fred and Wesley and smiled at them. "Hey guys!"  
  
"Spike's a puppet," Wesley said in disbelief. "Why is Spike a puppet?"  
  
"Aw, that doesn't matter. What matters is that he's great at playing guitar. And he can sing. Did you know he could sing?"  
  
"Well, no, I didn't, but Angel--"  
  
"Oh my god!" Fred said, walking around Wesley and seeing Spike. "You're cute! Cuter, anyway." Wesley turned around and gave Fred somewhat of a warning look. She just rolled her eyes and took his hand in hers. "You know what I meant." She turned back to the couch, but didn't let go of Wesley's hand. "So where'd you get such a tiny guitar from, Spike?"  
  
"Ebay," he answered proudly, practising some chords. Fred smiled widely at the puppets, positively giddy. Wesley briefly wondered if there was some way he could turn into a... No. Didn't even want to go there.  
  
"Listen, Angel," Wesley started, watching as the little puppet bounced up and down in front of him. "I know that you have every right to be feeling this, er... happy, but... Oh, for god's sake, cut that out a moment!" Angel stopped bouncing and stared up at Wesley, frowning slightly. "But Angel, what about the curse?" Wesley finished.  
  
"Pfft," Angel said, sitting down on the floor with a soft thump. "Curse, schmurse. Like I'm really gonna lose my soul as a puppet? Puh-lease, Wes." Angel started to giggle, and Wesley cast a wary glance towards Fred.  
  
"You'd think, with him being Irish and all, the alcohol wouldn't affect him this much. I think it's safe to blame his puppetism for his behavior."  
  
Fred gave Wesley's hand a little squeeze. "Don't worry, Wes. Angel's pretty good at keeping his happiness in check."  
  
"Hey, little cupcake!" Lorne said, walking into Angel's office. "I got you something to turn that felt frown upside-down." Lorne walked over to Angel and set a box down in front of him.  
  
Excited, Angel fumbled with the ribbon for a few moments, and then, with a little help from Lorne, got the box open. Angel's eyes widened about as far as they could go, and he gasped loudly.  
  
"Oh, Lorne," he breathed, not taking his eyes away from what was in the box. "It's... it's... How did you know?"  
  
"Aw, it was just hunch, sugar. It's pretty small, too, so the puppet thing shouldn't get in the way."  
  
Curious, Spike set his guitar down and went to stand next to Angel. He may have been drunk, but he was still Spike.  
  
"You've got to be kidding me."  
  
Angel carefully picked the small, white, and extremely fuzzy puppy up out of the box and let it sniff him, the puppy's tail wagging excitedly. Spike laughed.  
  
"He's a bloody poofter, Angel, just like you!"  
  
Fred squealed, unconsciously squeezing Wesley's hand. "Angel!" she squeaked, walking to pet the puppy. Wesley let out a breath of relief as soon as she let go of his hand, which she had been squeezing quite hard.  
  
"This has got to be the most adorable thing ever! What's its name?"  
  
Angel looked up at Lorne, and Lorne nodded back at him.  
  
"Go ahead, Angel-baby, the naming priveleges are yours."  
  
"Hmm. I think I'll call him..."  
  
"Buffy?" Spike offered, feeling a tiny twinge of guilt.  
  
"Spike," Angel said, smirking. "Fwuffy wittle Spike," Angel cooed, petting the happy puppy. Spike glared.  
  
"I hope you know I'm going to eat that thing when you're not looking."  
  
Angel frowned, and Fred instinctively leaned down and patted his head. Angel looked up at her, frowning still.  
  
"Whoops," Fred said with a nervous giggle. "Just... missed the puppy."  
  
Angel hugged Spike (the puppy) to his chest, and sighed happily.  
  
FLASH!  
  
Dropping the puppy, Angel fell to the ground, grabbing his chest.  
  
"No!" he wheezed. "Not again!"  
  
TO BE CONTINTUED... 


	2. Evil's Back and Felty

Fred and the others rushed to help Angel, who now lay unconscious on the floor.  
  
"Angel! Angel, are you okay?" Wesley shouted at Angel's still form, tapping him.  
  
"What was that?" Fred asked, worried.  
  
Lorne shook his head. "No mojo I know. But whatever it was, it--"  
  
"God!" Angel said, sitting up. "Is that all you people ever do? Talk and use logic? No wonder you're getting screwed over by an evil law firm."  
  
Spike backed away from Angel, eyes wide. "You're... you're..."  
  
"That's right, Willy. Cute get up, by the way." Spike glared, and Angelus looked down at himself. "Crap," he muttered. "I kinda hoped the puppet thing would go away along with the soul."  
  
"Angelus," Fred whispered, horrified.  
  
Angelus smirked. "The one and only. Turns out a puppy and a beer is just as fulfilling as getting laid in Angel's mind. Funny guy, he is."  
  
"Fred, take Spike and leave," Wesley said, not taking his eyes off of Angelus.  
  
Fred got up. "You don't have to tell me twice."  
  
"Hey, wait!" Spike said indignantly. "Why do I have to leave?"  
  
"Um, sorry about that. I meant Spike the puppy, Fred."  
  
"Okay," Fred said, but then shrieked and fell to the ground when Angelus jumped her.  
  
"Mmm," Angelus sighed happily, pinning her to the floor. "Aren't you the warm, sweet one." Angelus vamped out, pushed Spike and Wesley away with all his evil vampire strength as they tried to stop him, and then sank his teeth into the soft flesh of Fred's neck.  
  
Or at least tried to.  
  
Fred's whimpers of fear soon became giggles. "Stop, stop, that tickles!" she breathed as Angelus gnawed on her neck. He drew back from her, surprised.  
  
"What? Why can't I...?"  
  
"Felt," Fred said simply, as though she was not talking to the saem vampire that tried to kill her many times last year. "You're all made of felt, Angel... us. Even your fangs."  
  
Angelus groaned, standing up.  
  
"Okay," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is not cool."  
  
Wesley, who left to get something when he realized Angelus was, for lack of a better word, harmless, snuck up behind Angelus and put a large piece of duct tape on his mouth.  
  
"Spike--and this time I mean the vampire--could you please keep an eye on Angelus while we go contact Willow?"  
  
Spike smirked. "Sure thing, mate." Wesley handed him some chains to bind Angelus with. Angelus glared and tried to flip them off, but then realized, having only four fingers, he didn't have a middle one.  
  
"This. sucks," he grumbled, but all the others heard was "Mmf. mmuf."  
  
"We'll be right back," Wesley said, leaving the office. Fred picked up Spike--the puppy--and she and Lorne followed Wesley.  
  
"Looks like it's just me and you, da." Angelus raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You know, I don't think I've seen you since Sunnydale, where you were in your 'die-Buffy-die' mode and stealing my girlfriend. And that was, what, six years ago? Huh. It's funny, because I still want to beat the crap out of you for that." Angelus raised his other eyebrow and Spiek put his hands on his hips.  
  
"Would you stop that?! It's bloody annoying!"  
  
Smirking behind the duct tape, Angelus lowered an eyebrow, the other still up.  
  
"Stop!" Spike shouted, upset. And, of course, up went the eyebrow again.  
  
"ARGH!" Spike jumped Angelus.  
  
"MMF!"  
  
  
--approxiamtely 4.2 minutes later--  
  
  
"Where's Angelus?" Wesley said as soon as he stepped into Angel's office.  
  
"Took care of him," Spike said gruffly, watching Smile Time on Angel's TV (it was a repeat).  
  
"Oh god," Fred said, stepping forward. "You didn't...?"  
  
"Pfft, no." Spike rolled his eyes. "I just stuffed him in the closet."  
  
Wesley's facial expression was a combination of bewilderment and bemusement. "Why...?"  
  
"Apparently Captain Peroxide has something against eyebrows!" Angelus yelled from his closet.  
  
"Bugger, he got the tape off. So what's the deal with Red?"  
  
"She said she's going to come here tomorrow," Fred said, and then to the closet, "You here that? In less than 24 hours you're getting your soul back, bub!"  
  
"I might as well," Angelus said grumpily. "Because being a homicidal vampire trapped in the body of a puppet sucks."  
  
"Can we lock him up in one of the cages tonight?" Spike almost begged, desperate to get rid of his grandsire.  
  
"Can't," Wesley said. "He can fit through all the bars. I'll stay here and watch him." Wesley opened the door to the closet and dragged Angelus, his amrs and legs still bound, out of it.  
  
"Aw, I'm touched, Wes. Still trying to get on Angel's good side, are you? You know he'll never forgive you."  
  
"For what?" Wesley asked, frowning.  
  
"For stealing his kid, duh."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Connor? You know, Angel and Darla's son?"  
  
"If this is some sort of joke..." Fred warned.  
  
"Wait, I know why you're all clueless. Well, more clueless, anyway. Angel had Wolfram and Hart erase your Connor memories. Sneaky bastard."  
  
"I think," Wesley said, pulling a gun out from nowhere and pointing it at Angelus. "That you better explain yourself. Now."  
  
Angelus looked surprised. "You'd shoot a puppet? You are one sick, twisted British man."  
  
Wesley, unfazed, clicked off the safety.  
  
"All right, fine!" Angelus yelled. He glared at Wesley and pointed to Angel's desk. "In the top drawer there's a key to the storage room, which I think is where your memories are."  
  
Wesley got the key while Spike kept a close eye on Angelus.  
  
Staring hard at Angelus, Wesley began, "If you're telling the truth..."  
  
"I am telling the truth!" Angelus insisted, then added, "But only because I want to make all your lives miserable."  
  
Wesley sighed. "Let's go, then. Spike, will you watch Angelus?"  
  
"What? Oh, yeah, sure," Spike said without turning his head away from Smile Time.  
  
Wesley, although not very trusting of Spike's babysitting capabilities, left the room with Fred.  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED... 


	3. Dealing with the Scourgey Puppet

"How could Angel have done this to us?" Wesley asked no one in particular, depressed. He looked to his side and saw that Fred was staring at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
Fred shook her head. "Nothing, nothing, it's just... well, your scar is gone."  
  
Wesley felt his neck where the scar should've been. "You're right," he mumbled. He then turned his head away and said, his voice hoarse, "Fred, he must hate me. After all I've done..."  
  
"Of course he doesn't hate you," Fred reassured, putting her hand on his shoulder. "He... he put you in charge of his Research Department!" Wesley gave her a look and she said, "Okay, not so good example. But he does care about you, Wesley."  
  
Wesley smiled and kissed her forehead. "Thank you."  
  
They walked in silence to Angel's office and opened the door.  
  
Which, they were now realising, was a mistake.  
  
"ANGELUS!" Fred shouted, marching over to the couch. "You spit that out right. now!" Angelus just growled at her and chomped down harder on Spike's arm.  
  
"Freeeed!" Spike whined, trying to get his other arm free from Angelus's grip. "He's ruining my coat!"  
  
Fred couldn't let that happen--it was a really great coat--so, with help from an amused Wesley, she pulled Angelus off of Spike.  
  
Spike fell back on the couch, cradling his arm and sniffling, while Fred and Wesley held Angelus down. He wasn't exactly fighting them, though, because he was too busy sulking.  
  
"I can't believe you two," Fred said, hands on her hips. "We leave you alone for one--"  
  
"Fifteen," Wesley whispered.  
  
"--fifteen minutes, and you act like--"  
  
"Emotionally challenged vampire puppets?" Spike offered.  
  
"Well, yeah. And shut your mouth while I'm trying to lecture you! Now, me and Wes have to go somewhere for a while, and while we're gone you better behave yourselves. Or we'll bring Harmony in here to watch you."  
  
Both puppets had identical looks of horror on their faces and chorused, "We'll be good."  
  
"As long as Angelus doesn't steal the remote," Spike muttered.  
  
"That show was freakin' evil!" Angelus shouted back.  
  
"So! It was still educational!"  
  
"Yeah, to a two-year-old, maybe..."  
  
"ENOUGH!!" Fred shouted, looking on the verge of puppet-homicide herself. "Angelus, go to your closet."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me. You. Closet. Now."  
  
Angelus glared. "You are so fired," he said, walking over to the closet, slamming the door after he went inside.  
  
Spike smirked, and Fred said to him, "Spike, no more Smile Time." Spike's smirk automatically became a frown.  
  
"But Fred..."  
  
"No."  
  
He gave her his best pouty face and she had to turn around to resist it.  
  
"No," she repeated. "The show is evil, and it's driving Angelus insane... if he isn't already."  
  
Wesley locked the closet door and set the key on Angel's desk. "That should hold him," he told Fred.  
  
"Okay," Fred said, heading towards the door. "I told Lorne to check in on you every once in a while, and we should be back in no more than a few more hours. No Smile Time, Spike, and no taunting from your closet, Angelus. If everything isn't exactly the same when I come back, I'll kill you. See ya!"  
  
Wesley looked impressed by Fred as he left with her, and Spike just stared at the door, disturbed and bored.  
  
"Now what am I supposed to do?" Spike complained.  
  
"You could let me out!" Angelus offered, but Spike ignored him, looking around the room. He walked over to Angel's desk, smiling.  
  
"I think I thought of something fun to do."  
  
--a bit of mischief later--  
  
Spike sat on Angel's desk, surrounded by its contents, and sighed.  
  
"Now what's there to do?" he asked himself. "I've gone through all his stuff and found nothing interesting, except for a chocolate bar, a stake, and this little doll with pins in it... that looks a lot like me," he realized, studying the doll.  
  
After poking the doll and feeling no pain himself (you never could tell with Angel), Spike threw it to the side and looked up just as Lorne walked into the room.  
  
"Hey, don't you know how to knock, mate?" Spike said, hopping off of the desk. "For all you know I could've been naked."  
  
Lorne gave Spike a weird look, then said, "You know, after everything I've seen, a naked puppet doesn't really sound as horrifying as it should. Which is kind of horrifying in itself."  
  
Spike pulled his coat tighter around himself and glared. "What d'you want?"  
  
"Fred told me to stop in and check on you bad boys, so here I am, stopping and checking. Is Mr. Soulless behaving himself?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "Haven't heard a peep from him since the happy couple took off."  
  
Lorne considered looking in on Angelus, but then decided firmly against it. "Well, I'm off, sweetheart," he said, heading back out the door. "By the way, if you happen to see Gunn, send him my way, will ya?"  
  
"Sure," Spike said, not really paying attention, though. In his head, he was forming a plan.  
  
"Oh yeah," he said, smiling widely.  
  
--an hour or so later (really, who's keeping time?)--  
  
"I don't get it," Connor said, stepping into Wesley's office at Wolfram and Hart, closely followed by Wesley and Fred.  
  
"I know it's a lot to take in at once..." Wesley began.  
  
"No, that's not it," Connor said, growing steadily angrier. "What I don't get is why you two are being so calm about this. He... he messed with your minds, used magic on you, and you forgive him just like that?"  
  
"Connor," Fred reassured, stepping closer to the boy, "Angel did have his reasons. He did what was necessary to protect you, to... to save you."  
  
"Save me?" Connor snorted in disbelief. "He made me live a lie. Made me believe I was normal, and happy, and... loved. All I really was was ignorant." Connor looked down and Wesley touched his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.  
  
"You are loved," Wesley whispered.  
  
Not looking up, Connor simply replied, "You can't be saved by a lie."  
  
Wesley's response was almost immediate. "But you can be saved."  
  
This time Connor did look up. He briefly studied Wesley in awe, as if seeing him for the first time, and then he walked out of the office.  
  
"That was really beautiful," Fred told Wesley, embracing him.  
  
"Yes, I suppose it was," came the quiet reply.  
  
"And if we don't chase him now, that boy's gonna be lost to us forever."  
  
"I just realized that, yes," Wesley said, and they both sprinted out of the office and after Connor.  
  
--a bit of chasing later--  
  
"So where is he?" asked Connor after Fred and Wesley had caught up with him.  
  
"You mean Angel?" Fred asked a bit breathlessly.  
  
"Yes, him. Where is he? I'm having trouble tracking his scent in this place."  
  
"Hey, all!" Gunn said, walking up to them with a briefcase in his hand. "Where's our itty bitty boss?" Wesley and Fred exchanged a look and Gunn noticed Connor.  
  
"Oh, we have a new client?" He held out his hand. "I'm Charles Gunn, the law of the operation. And you are...?" Connor didn't answer, but instead turned towards Wesley and Fred.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" he asked, referring to Gunn.  
  
Gunn raised an eyebrow. "Oookay, apparently teenager's got an attitude. What's the deal?"  
  
"Could I please see your briefcase for a moment?" Wesley asked politely. Gunn handed it to him, but was clearly still confused. The confusion didn't last long, however, because Wesley swung the briefcase into the side of Gunn's head with a loud THWACK, and Gunn fell to the floor, unconscious.  
  
"Cool," Connor commented, smiling, but Fred didn't share his amusement. She helped Wesley pick Gunn up.  
  
"Was that really necessary?" she asked timidly.  
  
"I didn't hit him hard enough to cause head trauma. He should be fine in a few hours," Wesley replied, grunting under the weight of his unconscious friend.  
  
"Fine, maybe, but he's sure gonna be pissed at you."  
  
Wesley laughed. "Oh, I'm sure I'm not the only one he's going to be pissed at."  
  
--meanwhile, on the other side of the building--  
  
"C'mon, Angelus, answer me! I know you're in there!" Spike shouted at the closet, pounding on the door (although his hands were soft and didn't make too much noise).  
  
After doing this for five minutes and getting no response, Spike gave up.  
  
"Wanker's as stubborn as the Nibblet sometimes," Spike muttered, remembering the times when Dawn would lock herself in her room and sulk. Then something in his brain clicked. Nibblet equals Dawn, who equals the Key, which equals...  
  
"The key to the closet!" Spike shouted, and he ran to Angel's desk. Searching through the papers, he found the key Wesley had left and ran back to the closet with it (all the running was a result of Spike's puppet excitability).  
  
Unlocking the door, Spike opened it, and what he saw certainly wasn't what he expected.  
  
"Oh, balls."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED... 


	4. Temporary Insanity

Author's Note: Hello! First off, thanks SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed! All your comments mean the world to me, so I'm going to try and post quite a bit in the next few days. This chapter is quite short, I apologize, but like I mentioned before, I'll be updating again soon. Thanks again! =)

* * *

--several colorful cusses and a cry of "help!" later--  
  
Spike and Lorne both stood before the closet Angelus had been in, staring at the huge hole in the floor.  
  
"This is bad. This is very bad. You realize Wes is going to kill me now, right? I mean, I was supposed to be puppet-sitting, and so I check on you and you're right as rain, but I never bothered to look in on Mr. Escape-From-Alcatraz, here." Lorne was getting truly worried. "Wesley is so going to kill me."  
  
"Am I now?" Wesley asked, walking into the room with Fred and Connor. "Is there a reason involved?"  
  
"Look," Lorne started. "Keep in mind that, technically, I did everything you told me to. But, heh..."  
  
"We lost Angelus," Spike said simply, busy staring at Connor.  
  
Connor backed away from Spike, a little disturbed. "What is that thing?"  
  
Harmony, completely ignoring the rising havoc, walked into the office with a package in her arms. She set it in front of Spike.  
  
"Here you go, Spikey." She left, and Spike opened the package with increasing joy.  
  
"BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!" Spike ran over to the TV, quickly opening the DVD player, and put in...  
  
"SPIKE, NO!" Fred shouted, jumping him. "Wes, help! Grab the DVDs!" She stuggled holding down the squirmy puppet while Wesley did what she had asked, a little amused despite himself.  
  
"Sneaky... little... twerp..." she growled, and then let him go once Wesley was out of the room.  
  
"Those were mine!" Spike shouted, hands on his hips and eyebrows forming a v-shape. "I bought those with Angel's credit card for me!"  
  
"Where the hell did you even get those from?" Fred asked, still upset.  
  
"Ebay," Spike answered, as if it were obvious.  
  
"Okay, that's it. I'm cutting you off from the internet, mister. And you'll get the DVDs back when we find Angelus, okay?"  
  
Spike still wasn't happy, but he nodded reluctantly anyway.  
  
"Just what DVDs were they, Freddikins?" Lorne asked.  
  
"Smile Time!" Spike shouted happily. Lorne shook his head. "Figures."  
  
"It's out on DVD?" Angelus asked, popping up from the hole in the closet and surprising everyone.  
  
"It's him!"  
  
"He's back!"  
  
"Oh, joy."  
  
"What the hell are those?!"  
  
The attention then turned to Connor, who spoke last, and Fred walked over to him and touched his arm.  
  
"Look, Connor, I know this is a lot to take in at once..."  
  
"That's not--I mean, it can't be... dad?"  
  
Wesley, who's timing was impeccable, walked into the room and was promptly jumped by a kid's show-crazed Spike. The attention switched, and Connor took the oppurtunity to do some jumping of his own.  
  
After a lot of yelling and biting (Spike), Lorne pulled Connor off of Angelus while Fred pulled Spike away from Wesley. Gunn stood in the doorway, staring. "What the hell..."  
  
"OKAY," Fred interrupted, looking rather stressed. "Everyone just shut up for a minute while I explain. Connor, Angelus and Spike--another souled vampire from Sunnydale--are puppets because of a spell, which should wear off in a few days. Angel is also Angelus currently because he lost his soul due to a freak puppet incident. Spike, this is Connor, Angel's son. Any questions?" Everyone shook their heads except for Lorne.  
  
"Angelus, where did you go?" he asked.  
  
"I didn't 'go' anywhere. I just fell into this trap-door-cubby-hole-thing and got comfy there. Uh, that is to say… Stupid closet."  
  
Gunn leaned against the doorframe and rubbed his head. "Okay, so if Angelus here is back then why ain't we killing him?"  
  
"Yeah," Connor agreed, glaring in Angelus's general direction.  
  
"Oh, Gunn, are you okay?" Gunn shrugged and Fred continued, "Well, Willow's gonna stop by tomorrow and fix up Angel's soul problem (or lack thereof), and since Angelus isn't too much of a threat--"  
  
"Hey! Yes I am!"  
  
"--all we have to worry about is keeping him contained and, if possible, gagged."  
  
"Well, if you all don't mind," Lorne said, walking towards the door. "I'm gonna call it a night."  
  
"Yeah, I think I'm gonna leave too," Gunn murmured, following Lorne. "I need to clear up some things, and… Damn, my head hurts..."  
  
"So," Fred said, going to stand next to Wesley, who was frowning and holding his arm where Spike bit him. "Who wants Angel duty for tonight?"  
  
"I'll watch the wanker," Spike said at the exact same time Connor said, "I'll watch the bastard." They both looked at each other and shared a small smile. Angelus looked worried and Wesley "escorted" him into the closet.  
  
"Okay then!" Fred said, clapping her hands together. "Just remember: absolutely NO killing, understand? And Spike, no biting either," she added for Wesley's sake. Connor and Spike nodded, and with one last call of "good night!", Fred and Wesley took off.

* * *

TBC 


	5. Making Fiends

Author's Note: Again, thank you all SOOO much for the reviews! They completely make my day, and I'm going to try to keep updating this week. Much love to ya'll. 3

* * *

"So Angel and Darla are really, ya know, your parents?"  
  
Connor sulked. "Only biologically."  
  
"Wow," Spike replied, staring at the boy. "That's... That's actually just plain disturbing, really."  
  
Connor looked Spike incredulously. "I'm disturbing? You're a puppet!"  
  
"Not all the time," Spike grumbled. Not wanting to get on the bad side of the only other sane one in the building, Spike changed the topic.  
  
"So just why do you hate dear old dad, here?" Spike asked, gesturing to the closet where Angelus was being held captive.  
  
"Why wouldn't I? He's evil. And he completely ruined my life. My past life, anyway."  
  
Spike nodded. "Yeah, he seems to do that a lot."  
  
"Why do you hate him?" Connor asked, his tone disturbingly more pleasant.  
  
Spike snorted. "Wanker made me, beat me, ditched me, then popped up to scold and beat me up s'more. What I wouldn't give for revenge."  
  
"I sunk him to the bottom of the ocean for four months, once," Connor commented after a pause. "He didn't like that very much."  
  
Spike smiled brightly. "I think you're my new best friend," he said happily. Connor smiled back.  
  
--later--  
  
"One more."  
  
"No."  
  
"But I like this. It's fun."  
  
"NO."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because, mate, I'm broke, you're rich, and I think Mister Grumpy Gills is waking up. No."  
  
Connor pouted, but seeing that that obviously didn't work on Spike, he settled on counting all his newly obtained money, courtesy of said broke puppet.  
  
"How did you learn to play poker so well, anyway?"  
  
"I taught him," Gunn said cockily as he walked into the room.  
  
"Hey, Charlie boy. Come to take your turn at the puppet punching bag? And I mean Angelus," he added.  
  
Gunn smirked. "As tempting as that sounds, no. I'm just here to pick up paperwork."  
  
Connor glanced up at the clock. "At three in the morning?"  
  
"Working for a vampire includes all sorts of screwed up deadlines. And hey, speaking of deadlines, how is the evil one?"  
  
"Bound and blissfully not talking."  
  
"Just what I like to hear. Or, well not hear," Gunn said, grabbing some papers, waving, and then leaving the room.  
  
--10 minutes later--  
  
"I'm bored," Connor declared. Sitting around guarding a sleeping (was he still sleeping?) evil puppet could only do so much for him.  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to entertain you then?"  
  
Connor glared at him, but Spike knew enough now not to take it too personally. "Isn't there something fun we could do? Like... anything?" he asked, his tone bordering dangerously on whiny.  
  
"Shouldn't you be a brooding pit of despair?" Spike countered.  
  
"Where were you when we discussed how I'm nothing like my father?"  
  
"What about them special vampire powers of yours?" Spike pointed out.  
  
"I got those from my mother," Connor said simply.  
  
"You got me there," Spike said, shrugging.  
  
"So..." Connor began.  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Wanna see what's on TV?"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask."  
  
--about an hour of Harry Potter later--  
  
"I think Snape is a vampire," Connor commented, enjoying the movie despite himself. He was relaxing on the couch next to Spike, watching Harry Potter on Angel's big screen TV, and resisting the temptation to use Spike as a pillow.  
  
"He probably is," Spike replied. "Evil bastard. Although, um, no offense to me."  
  
"And the one student, Draco-something, kind of reminds me of--"  
  
"You shut your mouth," Spike said grumpily, cutting off Connor. "I had the Little Bit nagging me about that for a whole summer."  
  
"What's a little...? You know what, never mind."  
  
Spike sighed. "I wish I could fly." Connor gave him a weird look and he quickly said, "It's the puppet, making me say these things. Which I didn't, because you don't have any proof, so ha."  
  
Connor continued staring at Spike. "You're very defensive, do you know that?"  
  
"Oh yeah? Well, so is your... face." Connor blinked, and they continued to watch the movie in silence.

* * *

TBC  



	6. Puppy Vs Puppet

Author's Note: First off, and I really can't say this enough, thank you all so much for the reviews!! They mean a lot to me, they really do, so I tried to make this chapter a wee bit longer than the others. Also, I'm assuming you all would like me to continue this story? I never really meant for it to be this long, but I just keep getting ideas! =)

* * *

After Harry Potter, a few beers, and some ghost stories ("Really? You were stuck following around Angel for months?"), Spike and Connor passed out on the couch, and were woken up just a few hours later by Fred singing. Loudly.  
  
"Dammit, woman, it is NOT a beautiful morning," Spike grumbled as he stood up, his little hands attempting to cover his ears. Fred just smiled at him and continued to sing, so he pulled his ears off. Ah, much better.  
  
Wesley came in a few moments later and Fred stopped singing to kiss him, so Spike assumed it was safe to put his ears back on.  
  
"Everything okie dokie at command central?" she asked brightly, and Spike felt a large surge of sympathy for Wesley as he shrugged. "I guess. I've kinda been in dreamland, 'case you haven't noticed."  
  
Fred looked around the room. "Um, where's Connor?"  
  
Spike pointed to a particularly lumpy looking blanket on the couch. "He's under there. Twerp tried to use me as a pillow, so I buried him."  
  
Fred giggled and walked over to the couch. "Connor?"  
  
The blanket moved a little and groaned, "Five more minutes." Fred rolled her eyes and patted where she thought his shoulder was. Connor jumped.  
  
"Alright, alright, I'm up!" he said, blushing at his words. Which, in turn, caused Fred to blush too. Apparently that wasn't his shoulder.  
  
"Sooo," Wesley said, and then shot Spike a glare when he snickered. "Is Angelus still unconscious and, eh, puppet-like?"  
  
Spike grabbed the remote from the table, turned the TV to channel 250, and pointed to the monitor, which showed the Scourge of Europe himself fast asleep on the closet floor.  
  
Wesley looked impressed. "Well, that's handy."  
  
Fred, on the other hand, looked worried. "He looks uncomfy. Maybe we should get him a pillow?" she suggested.  
  
"He is a pillow," Spike reminded her. "And anyways, not only is he evil, but the prick can sleep anywhere, and through anything if he wants. Which tended to be rather scary sometimes." Everyone stared at Angelus's sleeping form, as if contemplating that.  
  
"When's the red-haired witch arriving?" Connor asked, standing up and yawning. Fred turned away from the TV to face Connor.  
  
"You mean Willow? Oh, she should be here around noon. And she said she was bringing a sander with her for some reason," she added, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  
  
"A sander?" Wesley repeated, clearly confused as well. Then it dawned on him. "Oh! I don't suppose she said 'Xander,' as in Alexander Harris, did she?"  
  
Fred hit her forehead. "I guess that does make a little more sense."  
  
"Just a little," Spike added sarcastically, which earned him a hit on the head from Connor. After a moment mostly involving Spike glaring up at Connor, Fred clapped her hands together. "Hey, Connor, wanna go check out your new apartment? We thought you might like a place nearby to stay."  
  
Connor's eyes widened. "I have an apartment? Oh, you guys so rock." He quickly followed Fred out of the room, looking ready to burst out in song himself.  
  
"Well, he seems to be adjusting well now, doesn't he?" Wesley commented. Spike rolled his plastic eyes.  
  
"Piffle. He's just happy that he's got his own place. And all my money," he added thoughtfully.  
  
Wesley raised an eyebrow, leaning against Angel's desk and crossing his arms. "You gambled with him, eh?"  
  
"He cheats," Spike mumbled bitterly, sitting in the chair across from Wesley. "Just like his bloody father."  
  
"I have to agree with you on that," Wesley admitted. "Angel does often resort to cheating. But for the greater good," he quickly added.  
  
Spike stared at Wesley in disbelief. "Does everyone here secretly hate Angel or something? And why did you all wait until now to let me know?"  
  
"Oh, I never meant that I hated him!" Wesley corrected himself quickly. "It's just... Wait, who else hates him?"  
  
"Spike!" Connor shouted, running into the room. As a ball of fluff rushed past him, Spike (the vampire-puppet) realized Connor probably wasn't yelling at him.  
  
Connor walked over to the couch and knelt down, trying to coax the puppy out from under there.  
  
"Come on out, boy. C'mon, Spikey, it's okay!" Wesley chuckled and Spike just glared. Spike (the puppy) finally did come out and Connor scooped him up into his arms.  
  
"Isn't he awesome?" Connor asked them, a huge grin on his face. "Lorne said I could take care of him while Angel's evil."  
  
Fred walked into the room, breathing heavily. "He sure is a ball of energy," she said, collapsing on the desk next to Wesley.  
  
"The puppy or the boy?" Wesley asked.  
  
Fred thought about it for a moment. "Both."  
  
"AAAHHH!!!" Spike (the puppet-like vampire) screamed. Connor had, at some point, let go of the puppy, and now it was munching on Spike's legs.  
  
"Get!...it!...off!...ME!" Spike shouted over the growling of Spike junior. Connor grabbed the puppy and pulled as hard as he could until it let go. Connor stumbled backwards with the puppy in his arms and Spike fell off the chair and to the floor.  
  
"Oh my god," Fred said, sickened. She put her hands over her eyes as Wesley rushed to help Spike, automatically switching to First-Aid-Mode.  
  
"Fred, quick--there's a sewing kit in the second drawer down of Angel's desk. Fetch it for me, please, luv." Fred did jus that while Wesley retrieved Spike's leg from... well, Spike.  
  
"Is he going to be alright?" Connor asked, holding the puppy tightly as Wesley got out the materials he needed.  
  
"He should be fine. There doesn't seem to be any major stuffing loss."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Just shut up and put my leg back! Oh, and I am SO eating that dog now. Stupid, mangy little..."  
  
"Shh," Fred soothed, holding the leg in place, despite her queasiness, so Wesley could sew it back on Spike. "It's not completely Spike's fault, Spike." She paused, making sure what she just said had made sense. She continued, "He's just a puppy, and to him you look like quite the chew toy."  
  
Spike just glared, something he was becoming rather good at.  
  
"Look who's awake," Connor said, frowning. They all looked at the TV and saw Angelus sitting up and yawning. Fred squealed.  
  
"Oh, isn't he just precious?!" Everyone looked at her. "Oh, uh, ahem. I mean... he's super evil. Yeah," she said unconvincingly.  
  
"There," said Wesley, cutting the thread. "Good as new."  
  
"Wow," Spike said in awe as he checked out the stitching. "Nice work, doc." Wesley nodded and then turned to Fred.  
  
"Should we tranq him until Willow and Xander arrive?"  
  
"Me?"  
  
"The puppy?"  
  
"Angelus?"  
  
Wesley stared at Spike, Connor, and Fred who had all just spoken at the same time. He turned to Fred. "Yes, I mean Angelus."  
  
Fred shrugged. "Do we even have to? I mean, he doesn't really look like he's gonna break out of the closet and kill us all right now, does he?"  
  
They all stared at the monitor as Angelus yawned again.  
  
"Key words: right now," Spike noted.  
  
Wesley considered it a moment. "Spike's right," he said, causing even Spike to look surprised. "Who knows what tricks Angelus could have up his sleeves. We should probably tranquilize him now, just in case." Wesley pulled a tranquilizing gun out of one of his many coat pockets and walked over to the closet, unlocking it and opening it slowly. Angelus looked up.  
  
"Oh, Wes, thank god you're here! I--" Wesley fired a dart into Angelus's chest, and he stumbled backwards, shocked. "No, Wes, you--you don't understand! It's me! I'm--I'm..."  
  
Slamming the door shut and locking it, Wesley walked back over to Angel's desk. Seeing Angelus fast asleep, he turned the TV monitor off.  
  
"Wow," Spike said meekly, staring up at the man who had just stitched him up. "Remind me to never piss you off."  
  
"Oh, I think you'll remember," Wesley said, smiling.  
  
Spike had the strong urge to run away.

* * *

TBC 


End file.
